


your cry baby

by michellejones



Series: in love and in the dark [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejones/pseuds/michellejones
Summary: She doesn't need Peter Parker. Not yet.Not at all, she tells herself.





	your cry baby

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to miss mashi

“I believe in you,” he whispers. His fingers look close to touching hers, curling slightly. It feels something like betrayal, as if her cover were blown; private, yet for the whole world to see.

She looks at him like she can't believe he said that. That he would, in front of Ned. In front of _her_.

She brings her fingers back to the pages of her book, and there's a ghost of a smile on her lips. She supposes it'd be hard to tell whether or not it were sincere.

She doesn't say anything in return, and she imagines, in another life, it would hurt him.

She doesn't need Peter Parker. Not yet.

 _Not at all_ , she tells herself.

* *

Michelle is almost certain she's seen Peter cry before.

Once. Not directly in front of her — _not for her to see._ But she has always been particularly observant, and she couldn't help but notice the dampness of his cheeks and the redness in his eyes.

A sick feeling began to swarm in her stomach. All she wanted was to look away.

 _She shouldn't_ _have been there._

She found herself wanting to touch him, more than anything.

She's glued behind the lockers, across the hall.

She ignores the afterthought, the reminder, when she chooses not to, and she walks the other way.

She gets home, and she's on her knees in front of a trash can, hoping endlessly for the uneasy knots in her stomach to pass.

* *

There are parts of her that feel inexplicably beautiful. Her mind, and her words, when she's not necessarily careful. Her eyes, in this warm light. She watches herself. She wonders if anyone else sees this, too — _magic —_ or if she's stuck, watching herself in the mirror on the wall, all alone.

The light feeling in her chest darkens and quickly falls into the pits of her stomach.

There's a noise on her bedside table. It's a text from Ned. He's at Peter's.

_Peter claims he's got your favorite movie. I'm not sure how right he is._

She's hesitant. Then her phone buzzes in her hand, like a heartbeat, and she knows it's him. Because no matter how much she avoids this, he knows her.

_michelle, it's friday. you know i can only stare at ned by myself for so long._

Everything is quiet.

_really, mj. you should come_

_*_

She finds herself at Peter's front door in almost fifteen minutes, when he takes her by the shoulders gently and shakes her like he can't believe it.

He's grinning so brightly that it's hard to look at him.

* *

The first time she shares a bed with anyone, it's with Peter, on his bunk — and she swears, this time will be the last.

Not only is there hardly any room for the two of them on this mattress, she is entirely too aware of her surroundings — _Peter_ , and Ned up above —for having stayed up until four in the morning. She just wants to get some rest.

She's positive he's not awake, but she can't stop herself from saying it.

“I'm taking the floor.”

She stirs, until a warm hand grasps her wrist and stops her completely. The darkness of the room swallows MJ whole, and she's thankful it conceals her expression, because she's never felt so shocked.

And she's sure Peter would never expect to see her skin burst into flames right before his eyes.

“Don't be crazy,” he says calmly.

She falls back into the space beside him, and his hand finds hers. It's unexpected.

Their fingers lace together, and she can feel her pulse in her fingertips.

“I didn't mean to wake you,” she mumbles. And she faces away from him, because there's just enough light in the room to see his eyes.

She feels his chest rise and fall on her back.

“Trust me,” he whispers. “I wasn't asleep.”

* *

There are times where Michelle feels like she doesn't know Peter at all.

She knows he's keeping secrets, and they're secrets that Ned knows. And she's certain they're things he wants to hide from everyone else.

It's strangely isolating, and it gives her a cold feeling when she looks at him.

She allows herself to wonder for moment if she's supposed to be different than everyone else Peter knows, simply because she's friends with him.

She told him herself that she never had friends — _not before him_. And that thought sticks with her, it follows her, until she can hardly look at him anymore.

Because it does mean something to her.

*

He catches her eyes across the hall before class.

It's Friday. He looks so much like the sun when he smiles at her, calling her name.

“ _MJ!”_

Sometimes, it feels like Peter is all she knows.

* *

Her world comes to a screeching halt on a Tuesday.

Someone's screaming her name, and it's like nothing she's ever heard before.

She watches the rubble fall. And when she turns around, she sees someone she's never met. But she recognizes him immediately. And she _runs_.

Michelle is next to him now, Spider-Man's head lying in her lap as he sobs, and he sounds nothing like a hero who could save her life. He's barely breathing, and he's tripping over words that she's begging herself to understand.

_He's saying that it hurts._

She's telling him to calm down. To _slow_ down. She's holding his masked face in her hands, looking down to see him, and she thinks she sees Tony Stark running toward them out of the corner of her eye. He looks panicked.

She's overwhelmed with the need to see his face. It feels catastrophic, in a way she can't comprehend.

She is so afraid to move, and she feels her heart in her throat as she tugs on his mask, red staining every inch of her shaky hands. It only gets harder as her fingers begin to numb, until she stops, palms cupping his face as she looks into his eyes. And it isn't fair, because this isn't someone she knows or recognizes.

All she's seeing are brown eyes that once looked like Friday mornings and bunkbeds in the dark, something precious torn away from her, right before her eyes — and suddenly everything is a blur, and she can't see. She's crying harder than him as she uses all the strength she has left to hold herself up, to not crush him and his broken body. Because she can't stop herself from caring.

She knows her tears are falling on his face. Distantly, she wonders if she should kiss him.

_*_

Everything is slowing down, and all she can feel is a burst of light dying in her arms.

He's telling her it's okay, he's breathing _(and I love you)_

And she's thinking, _Peter Parker looks nothing like the sun._

_* *_

And I still love him.

_ I love him. _

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok so no death is confirmed and i'm sort of tempted to write a follow up fic but idk


End file.
